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nameless
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i lied. i said i caused it from a few spilled over bottles i happened to drop near the fireplace and me being clumsy and not careful with where i was stepping, i ended up walking right into the shattered glass that caused the injuries and blood on the floor. the only exit was the window in the bedroom and as a last attempt at escaping, i fell and broke my arm.
i half-lied. but they still didn't believe the story. even the drunkard exchanged a sly glance of disbelief with the other man who sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest and expressionless.
the glass was shattered all across the living room.
the blood was smeared across both the living room and the bedroom floor.
the rest of the house was trashed.
and there were bruises that covered almost half of my body.
their retorts made my heart skip a beat as i felt the tips of my fingers become moist from the nerves. the guards who found me must have put out the fire before it completely burned the house down; or at least enough to compile this amount of evidence of the scene.
they told me that since i wasn't willing to comply for the questioning about the fire incident, they won't push it since it was a traumatic event. the answers that actually matter are the ones about my identity.
how do i answer questions about that if i don't even know who i am?
YOU ARE READING
𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 ☙ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍
Fanfiction↳ what if you didn't know who you were in a world that didn't help you understand? being forced to make decisions that push you to the edge until you find something, or someone, that makes you feel at home. don't be mislead by the title. ☙ a levi...
